


Pronoia

by Polyhexian



Series: Okay but what if they were ace tho [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Ace Whirl, Asexual Character, Established Relationship, M/M, Polyamory, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, There's no smut in this sorry, it's time for more ace whirl nonsense yayyy, this is disgustingly tender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian
Summary: Tailgate narrowed his visor at him, "You're deflecting. Are you hiding something?""Uh," said Whirl, who didn't sound particularly sleepy anymore."Whiiiiirl," Tailgate said, sitting up, "What aren't you telling me?""Uhhh," Whirl trailed off, looking around the room for a moment like he was trying to come up with something clever to say and failing miserably, "I don't meanruin-ruin-"
Relationships: Cyclonus/Tailgate/Whirl (Transformers), Tailgate/Whirl (Transformers)
Series: Okay but what if they were ace tho [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772830
Comments: 11
Kudos: 110





	Pronoia

"You know, you'd think he knew better than to come to action movies at this point," Whirl said, setting one elbow on the arm of his chair and leaning his helm on one claw as he regarded the minibot splayed between him and Cyclonus's laps, completely down for the count.

"I'm starting to think he enjoys falling asleep like this," Cyclonus said wryly, amused. The credits were rolling on screen and casting a dim glow onto the yawning audience as they stretched and got ready to head back to their own rooms. 

"I have it on good authority I am extremely comfy," Whirl nodded.

"See you guys next week," Rewind yawned, flicking off his projector, "I'll try to pick something that doesn't put your boyfriend to sleep next time."

"Come, little one, time to head home," Cyclonus started, leaning forward, but Whirl waved him away.

"Nah, let him rest, he was on rotation today, I'm sure he's tuckered out. Cockpit time," he snapped his windshield away and plucked the minibot out of their lap in one smooth motion and plopped him into his open chest cavity. He made a noise of obvious discontent from being moved, but settled back in.

"See ya next week, Winders," said Whirl with a wave, pushing himself up, "C'mon, Cyc-cyc."

The walk was short, only a few hallways of habsuites down. Cyclonus regarded his Conjunx with shameless fondness, smiling at how peaceful he looked.

"Do you want to stay the night?" Cyclonus asked when Whirl yawned, "Your hab is on another floor entirely." 

"Yeah, why not," Whirl acquiesced, "I'm pretty zonked out myself. Too zonked for foolin' around, though, if that's your angle," he narrowed his optic cheekily.

"No angle," Cyclonus smirked, "though you're welcome to change your mind." 

"Ooh, he's flirtin' with me," Whirl giggled, "I think I'm being flirted with."

"It's almost as if we've been courting for months," Cyclonus rolled his optics, stopping to punch their door key in.

"Almost like!" Whirl snickered. The door slid open and the lights flickered on and Cyclonus stepped out of the way so the helicopter could cross the room to the berth to get Tailgate situated. 

"Mm," Tailgate mumbled, stirring as he was moved from his cozy cockpit, "You stayin' the night, Whirlibird?"

"Course I am," Whirl scoffed, "look at you, you're just begging to be cuddled, how could I leave now?" He punctuated the statement by flopping down next to the minibot and pulling him against his belly. 

"I am pretty cute," Tailgate sighed, snuggling into the new position, wrapping his arms around one of Whirl's claws with a yawn. 

"Very," confirmed Cyclonus, sitting down on the edge of the berth and shooing Whirl's legs out of the way so he could lay down on the other side, where there was a little more space to do so. 

Whirl gave a contented sigh as the lights clicked off and they settled into a comfortable, sleepy silence. 

* * *

When Tailgate woke he knew immediately he was the first one to do so. It wasn't unusual, flight frames were notorious for loving their recharge with all the energy they burned up doing anything at all. He wasn't adverse to getting to enjoy hazy mornings sleeping in, tucked into Cyclonus's chest. Whirl was still a bit flighty and generally preferred to sleep in his own room, even if he spent most of his waking hours with them, so it was a special treat to have them both for once.

And an _especially_ special treat the way Whirl's interface array was warm and pressed against Tailgate's lower back, spike twitching in his sleep. Tailgate wondered if Cyclonus was _also_ suffering from morning wood, but he couldn't check at this angle. He checked his internal chronometer to make sure it was actually a decent hour before he set about bothering either of them, and then rolled over to wrap his arms around Whirl's midsection, nuzzling the flat of his stomach just beneath his cockpit. 

Whirl mumbled in his recharge and tightened his arms around the minibot. Tailgate picked up one leg and threw it over top of Whirl's thigh, hiking his ankle around it to pull himself closer and press the flat of his stomach flush with Whirl's spike, hot and heavily pressurized. 

Whirl angled his hips back and away, tugging Tailgate back up higher and tightening his grip with more conscious effort. "Nah," he mumbled.

Tailgate was a little surprised. Whirl had literally never turned down an opportunity to interface before. He made sure to adjust his hands to a less suggestive-but-still-romantic position against his partner's frame. 

"You okay?" he asked, scooting out of the way so Whirl could roll into his back, crawling up and curling around his shoulder in the crook of one elbow to press a mask kiss against Whirl's helm.

"Mm?" Whirl hummed, softly, optic still offline, "'M good." 

"Sorry for waking you, then," Tailgate giggled quietly, laying his head on Whirl's shoulder. Whirl sighed contentedly. 

"Don't be," he said, sleepily, "This is good."

"Sure you're okay?" Tailgate asked, one more time, since Whirl never answered that question truthfully the first time he was asked. 

"I'm good, I just don't feel like ruinin' it yet," he yawned. 

"...Ruining it?" Tailgate repeated with a querying tone. Whirl's optic snapped open like he just realized what he had said.

"Uh, the mood, I mean. The morning. Sleepy. Don't wanna wake the lurch, and all that."

Tailgate narrowed his visor at him, "You're _deflecting_. Are you hiding something?" 

"Uh," said Whirl, who didn't sound particularly sleepy anymore. 

" _Whiiiiirl_ ," Tailgate said, sitting up, "What aren't you telling me?"

"Uhhh," Whirl trailed off, looking around the room for a moment like he was trying to come up with something clever to say and failing miserably, "I don't mean _ruin-_ ruin, just like. I'd rather cuddle, or whatever."

"You seem a little defensive for that to be it," Tailgate leaned forward so he could nuzzle his face into the crook of Whirl's neck again, and Whirl tightened his one armed hold on him appreciatively. 

"Don't get mad," Whirl said, finally, relenting. 

"Oh, no."

"Seriously," Whirl groaned, " _Don't_ get mad."

"I won't get mad. What is it? What's on your mind?"

Whirl was silent for a moment, helm tilted up, staring at the ceiling. "Honestly, I don't think I really like interfacing."

Tailgate felt a sudden cold wave rush up his spinal strut thinking about the many, _many_ times they had interfaced, " _Oh_." 

"I don't like, _dis_ like it," Whirl said quickly, noticing how badly Tailgate had tensed up, "I just mean, like. I dunno. It's not my first choice."

"Whirlibird, why didn't you _say_ something?" Tailgate whispered.

"I mean, like I said, I don't _not_ like it, and I didn't wanna like… I dunno, I guess I just didn't think it was all that important."

Tailgate groaned and pushed his face against the side of Whirl's helm again, before a thought struck him and he sat back quickly, "Actually, no, okay, hang on, where does that end? Should I scoot back?"

"No!" Whirl said, sounding uncharacteristically needy, and he shoved his cockpit down, fighting the half-transformation to at least tuck it a little out of the way while he rolled back onto his side and pulled Tailgate back, "I like this part."

"Are you telling me the truth?" Tailgate asked, hesitating to let himself be pulled back in too tightly, "You promise?"

Whirl huffed and tugged again, and Tailgate let himself be clutched, wrapping his arms around Whirl's neck and accepting that as the best answer he was going to get. "You're so difficult, Birdy. Don't do stuff you don't like."

"But I like making _you_ happy," he complained, sounding _deeply_ embarrassed to say something so intimate and unlike him, "And _you_ like it." 

"Well, not now that I know you _don't_ , dummy." 

"Are you gonna tell Cyclonus?"

"I'm absolutely telling Cyclonus."

Whirl whined. "But then I'm gonna lose my reputation as the slut."

"Do you want me to call you a slut, Whirl? If you want me to call you a slut I'll call you a slut."

"Yes," said Whirl, with a sniff, "I am still a slut."

"Fine, you're still a slut. You're a weird, weird slut. Are you happy?"

"Very," said Whirl, sounding bizarrely pleased with himself. Tailgate rolled his optics beneath his visor. 

"You're so mean to yourself," Tailgate sighed, moving a hand to pet the side of Whirl's helm, and he sighed into the contact, "I like you. Why can't you be nice to yourself for me, at least?"

Whirl made a vague noncommittal noise. 

"Alright then. Talk to me about interface. What don't you like? What are we taking off the table?"

"Well, I mean, like I said, I don't _dis_ like it, so nothing is _off-_ off the ta- ow!" He stopped when Tailgate pinched him on a cluster of wires in his shoulder joint. "That hurt."

"Off the table is off the table, Whirl."

"First is no pinching," he said, indignantly, then softened, shifting awkwardly like it was physically stressful to admit he didn't like something, "Uh… I mean, I like pretty much everything other than actual 'facing, I guess. I think, anyway. I really do like, uh, sex _stuff_ , I just don't, like, wanna actually _do_ it." 

"Then we won't _do_ it, Whirl, it's _okay_ ," Tailgate pressed another static kiss to his helm.

"It's just like, I really like dating and without fooling around it's like, are we even really datin'? And-"

"Yes," Tailgate interjected, "Still definitely dating."

" _And_ like, again, I don't _dis_ like it and I already feel really bad about not bein' especially reciprocal-"

"What does _that_ mean?" Tailgate prompted. Whirl squirmed uncomfortably again, fighting himself to answer the question.

"I mean I'm not exactly as good at oral as tall dark and handsome, there, and-"

"Neither am I!"

"And, you know, I mean-" Tailgate glanced down when Whirl lifted his claws from his back and waved them. "Insensate."

"They are?" Tailgate asked, reaching down to take one pincer in hand. Whirl nodded, still looking away. "You didn't mention that either."

"It's awkward." 

Tailgate moved his hand back to Whirl's neck. "Not too awkward to talk about. We are keeping you, you dumb helicopter, no matter how weird you are. You don't have to do anything you don't actually _like_."

Whirl fidgeted again, huffing, "Feels unfair. Unbalanced."

"Hush," Tailgate tutted, "Only to you. What do you want, then?"

"Honestly?" Whirl muttered, "Right now I wanna go back to sleep."

Tailgate laughed at him, bumping their helms together, "Well, that's on the table, isn't it? We're still talking about this later."

"Fine," Whirl yawned, nestling his helm over Tailgate's comfortably, "But later is later. Right now I've got you."

"You've got me," Tailgate repeated, settling back in to listen to Whirl's engine thrum softly beneath him, making returning to recharge an easy feat to accomplish. 


End file.
